


The Prince and the Rogue

by silverneko9lives0



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bandits & Outlaws, Blind Harry, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fairy Tale Style, M/M, Middle Ages, Princes & Princesses, Robin Hood References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverneko9lives0/pseuds/silverneko9lives0
Summary: Once Upon a Time in a Land Far Away…Well, that is how many tales begin and yet it is very suitable for this particular tale.It is a tale of a spoiled rotten prince, son of a tyrannical king who allied with a cruel conqueror.A tale of transformation and growth.A tale of hate and love.Ultimately, it is a tale where the actions of a young man could ultimately shape the destiny of his kingdom and, perhaps, the kingdoms surrounding his own.Inspired by "Say My Name" by Thunderbird587





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Say My Name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15356202) by [Thunderbird587](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderbird587/pseuds/Thunderbird587). 



Once Upon a Time in a Land Far Away…

Well, that is how many tales begin and yet it is very suitable for this particular tale.

It is a tale of a spoiled rotten prince, son of a tyrannical king who allied with a cruel conqueror.

A tale of transformation and growth.

A tale of hate and love.

Ultimately, it is a tale where the actions of a young man could ultimately shape the destiny of his kingdom and, perhaps, the kingdoms surrounding his own.

But let’s backtrack a little bit…

#

The Forbidden Forest was a dense and dark place on the borders of the world. Or so it seemed. No one dared venture inside it except for the stupidly brave and foolhardy. Many didn’t even have the luck to return from it.

Except for the outlaws commonly known as Dumbledore’s Army. And even then, running into the group was rare. They were apprentices, mostly, of the aged wizard and philosopher who had long passed away.

Albus Dumbledore, once, was a great force in the land. He was slaughtered by order of the Emperor some years prior. Since then, a group of idealists who barely really knew him took up his legacy in the fight against injustice.

Many of them were children when the wizard died. Almost adult, but not quite…

Harry Potter was one such youth. He had thick, tangled hair that seemed the color of a raven’s feathers and the skin of one who spent most of his time in the sun – freckled, dark, and sometimes burned. Harry was lithe of build. Stronger than he looked, as many thought him weak and sickly from his shot stature.

Not everyone could be a tall and muscular knight, after all.

Harry had two distinct markings on his face.

The first were his eyes. Bright green and vibrant, like his mother’s, for all that he was blind. Not completely, you see. He could recognize colors, but nothing was solid for him. He couldn’t make out shapes and relied mostly on his sense of hearing to recognize where his brethren were.

The other marking was a uniquely shaped scar on his forehead. He received it when he was an infant. His mother had accidently gotten under the Emperor’s feet and he knocked her aside. Both survived, but both bore scars from the encounter.

Him on his forehead.

She on her back when the Emperor’s guards whipped her while she clung to him tightly to protect him from the leather straps edged with metal.

His scar, however, came from a sharp rock which his mother couldn’t see and therefore could not prevent from harming him.

But that was near twenty years ago now and was not worth dredging up.

“Harry?”

He turned toward the soft voice. “Yes, Hermione?”

“You’re up.”

A soft cloth was pulled over his barely functioning eyes. His hearing sharpened immediately. “Toward the carriage?”

“Yes.”

“Tell the others to stand ready.”

He stood, using a wood staff to guide him to the main road where the sound of a carriage loomed louder. They weren’t going full speed. Perhaps they weren’t worried about being in the forest during the day, despite all the other dangers they could come across.

Still, they could have worse luck.

He heard the carriage slow as they approached the block Ron had made the day before. Men cursed and moved from the carriage, inspecting the fallen tree and wondering if it’d be possible to move it.

Harry approached with more surety, his other hand out and begging for coin.

“Move on, Beggar,” one guard said, seizing Harry’s shoulder. Harry tightened his grip on his staff.

“All right, sir,” he said. “No need to be rough.” He slammed the end of his staff into the man’s leg, relishing in the groan the man said. He felt the air around him shift as the others surrounded him.

“What’s going on?” another voice, sharp and cool, called from the carriage.

“Nothing, your highness,” one of the guards shouted. “Stay inside.”

 _Highness?_ Harry thought. _Perfect_.

Harry spun around, slamming his staff into the helmeted head of the guard behind him, causing more uproar than perhaps was necessary. One screamed in pain and he felt hot blood hit his skin.

“Was about to stick you, Mate,” Ron explained. Harry could tell he was smiling from his tone. Harry ignored him, rushing at the carriage and flinging the door open. He felt a blade against his throat and a hand seize his hair.

“How dare you?” The man – the prince – growled.

Harry licked his lips, swallowing. He needed to tread carefully or he’d get his throat cut. He felt the dagger be pulled back and a scuffle.

“Ron?”

“Aye. I got him, Harry. Let’s go.”

The prince struggled for a while before Ron had the brilliant idea to knock him out ramming the prince’s head into a tree.

“He better be alive, Ron,” Harry snapped, pulling the blindfold off. “He’s not worth anything to us dead.”

“What do you take me for?” Ron asked, affronted. To Harry, Ron looked like a giant of a man donned in brown leather and fur. He knew from being close up that Ron had red hair. Right now, it was a red blob on top of a white blob, which was on top of a brown blob. “I’m not going to kill him.”

The blob that was the prince was white and black and hoisted over Ron’s shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here before we run into others, shall we?” Ron suggested. Harry followed, using his staff to keep from running into what could potentially hurt him. Like an unearthed tree root. Hermione met them back at camp. The smell of stew wafted by Harry, tickling his nose and watering his mouth.

“Lunch! Finally!” Ron shouted gleefully.

“Put him down first,” Hermione told her lover, jabbing her ladle toward the wood pillar they usually kept hostages at.

Ron obeyed, setting the prince down and tying his hands behind the post. Once secure, Ron also divested him of his weapons, putting them far away so that their guest wouldn’t be tempted to try reaching for them with his feet.

“So,” Hermione began when Harry and Ron joined her. “Who’s this bastard?”

“Not entirely sure yet,” Harry said. “But we know he’s a royal. His men called him ‘highness,’ so I’m guessing we’re hosting a prince.”

“Hopefully a wealthy one,” Ron laughed. Harry saw the blur of Hermione smack Ron’s arm.

“When he wakes up, find out who he is and we can get started.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

Harry looked away, ignoring the smack and the way Hermione yelped. He held his bowl and spoon close, all but shoveling the broth and meat into his mouth. He wasn’t unused to such displays of affection. His parents were very open about their physical relationship. More than he’d have liked them to be, at times, actually.

From his parents to his closest friends, Harry was used to moments he found uncomfortable. It was one of the times he was glad to be blind. Hearing them was hard enough. What would seeing their behavior do to his sensitivity?

He didn’t mind it much. Harry assumed he was being unnecessarily bitter. He had been in a couple relationships before, as a boy, with a couple maids. One of which had been Ron’s younger sister. Unfortunately, Ginny was….

Well, she could be quite cruel even when she didn’t mean to be. When Harry was younger, he was blind to her unintentional abuse until his parents had witnessed their interaction. His father, also a blind man, had more heard it in Ginny’s tone rather than saw it as his mother had.

The Potters had forbidden the relationship, much to their son’s chagrin and his lover’s fury. But, in the end, he had realized that they had been right and returned home, contrite. It took a year after for him to return to his usual self, free of Ginny’s psychological attacks.

He’d sworn off women since, a decision Ron – who had witnessed the worst of it – was openly supportive of. He’d not been pleased with his sister since _that_ day…

“You’re brooding again, Harry,” Ron said. “Food’s gone cold.”

“Oh?” Harry lifted the spoon to his mouth. The stew certainly had gone cold. He shrugged and went back to eating, putting all thought of Ron’s shrew of a sister from his mind.

“When do you reckon his highness will wake?” he asked.

Ron whistled, stretching. “No clue. Gives us time to figure out how to approach him, eh? Do we tell him we’re Dumbledore’s Army? Do we tell him we’re Order of the Phoenix? Fuck if I know.”

“Dumbledore’s Army, certainly,” Hermione said. “We’re more associated with them anyway. As opposed to the Order of the Phoenix.”

“True. Besides, Order of the Phoenix sounds more like a group of knights,” Harry pointed out.

The Order of the Phoenix were not knights. They were comprised of those loyal to Dumbledore, a group formed by him as the Emperor rose to power set to fight his tyranny and injustice.

Harry had formed Dumbledore’s army with Hermione and Ron. Originally, they were a much bigger group but after his fall out with Ginny, the group fell apart until it was just Harry and his closest friends.

Ron’s older brothers, for instance, weren’t interested in sticking around. Those who had since either gone home or passed on. Like Neville.

“Well, we should figure out who he is first,” Harry decided. “Don’t tell him our true names or show him our faces.”

Hermione grinned. “I’ve more linen. We can blindfold him.”

Harry snorted. “You get to blindfold me all the time, Hermione. Ron, tell me, mate, does she have a fetish for blindfolds?”

Hermione smacked Harry’s arm. “You’re so crude.”

“All right, all right,” he said, raising his hands up. “I apologize. You know I mean no harm.”

Hermione harrumphed and went to their captive, tying linen around his eyes to keep their identity sealed. When she stepped away, the prince began to groan, waking up.

“Back to work, aye?” he more asked. Harry nodded. He grabbed his staff and approached their captive.

He wanted to know who exactly they had taken hostage.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys!

First of all, thanks to everyone who's been reading. I hope you'll stay with me for a while longer.

I got a new job and while I am trying to get a page in a day, that's not been the case for all the stories I'm working on. So I decided to go back to a one at a time method. For the foreseeable future, I'll be working on my Drarry story, Gold and Silver Cracks.

I'm not abandoning any of my current works in progress. When I get back to this one, I'll delete this message and upload the next chapter.

Thank you, everyone, for being such great readers and for being so patient with me.

With much love,

Silver.


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